


Unlikely Angels

by readerconsumed



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Cuddling, Depression, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, M/M, Mentions of past domestic violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Relapsing, Slow Build, Suicidal Thoughts, Supernatural Alternative Universe, there's going to be a lot of triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-09 19:59:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4362233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readerconsumed/pseuds/readerconsumed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean isn't doing well. He hasn't been doing well for a while now. But when the high is better than the reality how could anyone expect different.<br/>Castiel does though, and he's hoping to get through to Dean before the high blocks Deans reality out for good</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Guys please read the tags before carrying on. The first two chapters are not going to be bad, but if you're sensitive to anything mentioned in the tags please be careful.  
> Anyway! on that happy intro! I hope you guys enjoy!

Dean was being shoved and poked by someone as he tried to sleep off last night’s activities and whoever the hell it was, was going to get an ass kicking if they didn’t stop soon. He wasn’t in any type of mood to be dealing with people right now. His head hurt like a bitch and he was jonesing for anything that would make it go away.

“Dude, can you fucking _stop_.” He grumbles at the unknown presence. “M’fuckin’ sleepin’.”

He curls in on himself further, bringing his knees up to his head and wraps his arms around them in a foetal position.

“You’re on the side of the _fucking_ street.” The presence replies, mimicking Deans favourite choice of adjective.

Dean huffs and peeks his one eye open slightly to get a good look at his surroundings. He’s facing a pretty filthy looking red-brick wall, with multiple colours of gum stuck to it further up and one close enough to his face that he cringes away from it with a scowl. The floor beneath him is even filthier, the pavement stained black by dirt where it connects with the red-brick wall.

He can hear people talking and can hear their footsteps as they walk by him quickly, obviously needing to get to their jobs or some shit like that.

“Well shit. I really am on the side of the road.” Dean slurs sarcastically. “Thanks for the observation, you can fuck off now.”

He closes his eye again without even casting a glance at the person standing above him. Why the hell they were invading his personal space was beyond him. He wasn’t on anyone’s door step and this was a free country after all!

“As rude as you are, I don’t feel the sadistic need to leave you on the side of the street where you obviously don’t belong.” The guy has moved to stand over Deans head now, casting a shadow over Deans face, giving his eyes a break from the glaring sun.

Dean huffs out a laugh and rubs at his eyes. If this guy didn’t piss off soon, he was going to have to do something about it, which he really didn’t feel up to right now, but he wasn’t going to let someone he didn’t know play ‘saviour’ with him.

“Yeah? And how the hell would you know asshole?”

“I don’t, but I assume Sammy wouldn’t want you lying on the side of the street like this.”

Deans eyes shoot open and he bolts upright, the action causing his head to spin and his stomach to twist. He ignores it completely and glares with sleep filled eyes at the man standing over him.

The guy seems pretty tall, but in the state Deans in right now it could all be perception at this point. His dark brown hair is standing up in all directions as if he’s the one that just got woken up, and his face is set in serious scowl. He can’t make out any other facial features as the guys face is cast in shadow from standing with his back toward the sun. Dean has to squint up at him and move his face in the guys shadow to avoid looking into direct sunlight.

The most eye catching thing however is the trench coat. Why did this guy feel the need to wear that thing in this type of weather? It definitely wasn’t cold enough for it and he was sure the guy must be getting hot standing in the sun with it on.

“How the hell do you know Sammy?” Dean bites out still squinting.

The guy tilts his head slightly as if confused and brings his hand up so that Dean can see he’s holding something.

“I found this.” He says waving Deans wallet in front of his face and taking out a picture of him and Sam when they were younger.

Deans eyes widen and he immediately drops his hands to his pants pockets, patting them down but finding nothing and then moving on to do the same thing to his leather jacket.

Anger starts to pool inside of him as he looks back up at the other guy.

“What the fu-.”

“It says ‘Me and Sammy’ on the back, so I assumed that, that is the other boys name.” The man continues coolly.

Dean stares flabbergasted for a few seconds before he can calm himself down a notch to respond. “Who the hell do you think you are? That’s called invasion of privacy asshole! Actually, no, it’s called fucking _stealing_.”

Dean moves to get up and stumbles, holding himself up against the filthy wall and accidently touching a piece of dried gum he had seen earlier. This only serves to aggravate him further and he growls as he wipes his hand on his jeans. He turns to the other man, seeing that he’s about the same height Dean is but he doesn’t seem to be as big. He could take him easily if that’s where this was heading.

“Invasion of privacy… perhaps, although I did find it about five feet away from you and in my defence I only looked inside to see if there was an address I could return it too.”

This guy had to be fucking joking.

“Yeah, because I’m supposed to believe you’re some good Samaritan that just walks around returning peoples wallets.” Dean grabs the wallet and photo out of the other mans hands and continues to glare at him challengingly.

“I did not mean to offend you.” The man says holding his hand out to Dean “My name is Castiel and I just thought you may have needed some help.”

Dean stares down at Castiels hand and is actually taken back a little. What the hell was up with this guy? And what kind of weirdo name is Castiel anyway?

“Goody for you.” He replies ignoring the outstretched hand and goes through his wallet to make sure everything is still there. The lack of money isn’t new and he knows that’s no ones fault but his own, he’d spent all his loose money last night and he’d have to go to an ATM to get more. If he even had more in his account that is.

“And you’re Dean Winchester?”

Deans stops his inspection of his wallet and shoots Castiel an incredulous look. “How-.”

“Your drivers license.” Castiel admits looking down at his feet, seemingly embarrassed “Sorry.”

Dean shakes his head annoyed and rubs his hand on the back of his neck. He shoves his wallet back into his jacket pocket and takes in his surroundings.

The buildings are falling apart and the pavement where he was sleeping looks even filthier now that he’s more awake. The streets are lined with lose pieces of rubbish and there’s even an old tyre lying on the side of the road. There’s laundry hanging in the windows of the apartment buildings and on the balconies. One balcony is even lined with barbed wire and there’s a sketchy group of guys across the street playing cards on a plastic table and smoking something that Dean knows for sure is not your average cigarette.

He’s somehow managed to work his way to the crappiest part of town possible. He’s been here before, but he would never in his right mind fall asleep on the street. But that was just the problem. Dean wasn’t in his right mind, he hadn’t been for months. Already he could feel his hands shaking as he held on to his jacket that he had been using as a makeshift pillow, carefully holding it so that it covered his arms. And his mouth… it feels so fucking _dry._

Dean licks his lips trying to get the awful cotton mouth to go away and out of the corner of his eye realises that Castiel is still standing there looking at him, head tilted.

“Did you want something else? A fucking prize maybe for waking me up?” Dean sighs and looks tiredly back at the other man.

Castiel frowns and looks Dean up and down before answering gently. “Do you have somewhere to go Dean?”

Dean frowns back at Castiel before raising his voice angrily. “Why are you still standing here? I’d say it’s pretty obvious I want you to leave. Are you fucking simple or something?”

Castiels facial expression doesn’t change and he looks as calm as he did before Dean had started yelling profanities at him, which makes Dean even more frustrated. What the hell did this guy want from him?

“I’m simply offering you chance for some food and perhaps a hot shower.” Castiel replies still looking as cool as a cucumber. “I do not mean to be offensive but it looks as if you could use it.”

Dean eyes Castiel curiously before snorting and rolling his eyes and sitting back down on the pavement, leaning his back up against the wall and pulling his knees to his chest and resting his head on them. “I don’t need your charity.” He grumbles into his knees.

“I’m sure you don’t, but it’s not charity. Charity is for those less fortunate and you don’t seem less fortunate to me, just someone who had a bad night.” Castiel states in a matter of fact manner. “I’m just trying to be kind.”

Dean scoffs at the word. It doesn’t mean much to him. More because he’s never felt that he deserved kindness. Even the word seems incredibly foreign in his mind. He had never considered himself a kind person either. Selfish? Yes. An asshole? Definitely. But never anything close to kind. There was no such thing as genuinely kind people. People only did things for you when they needed something from you in return.

He doubts that this guy was anything different either. He looks pretty damn sketchy standing there in his ridiculous trench coat. But even with the trench coat, there’s still something that gives Dean the impression that Castiel didn’t belong there either, which is both comforting and worrying.

Castiel had obviously given up waiting for Dean to make up his mind and had started walking away, without a word.

Dean watches after him and then looks around again at his current situation. He knows where he is, but that doesn’t help him jack shit. He doesn’t actually have anywhere to go and he’s shit out of luck with money at the moment.

Dean swallows hard and wipes at his dry mouth as his hands begin to shake again and his stomach starts growling.

Damn it.

“Hold up!” He calls out to Castiel, his head still tucked into his knees. This was going to be embarrassing as it was, he didn’t need to see Castiels “I told you so” face too.

Castiel stops walking and turns around to regard Dean with a raised eyebrow.

It takes Dean some time before he can actually get up the courage to drag his ass off of the pavement and walk solemnly over to where Castiel is waiting. He stops a few feet away from the other man and rubs self-consciously at the back of his neck.

Neither of them says anything for a while. Castiel is obviously waiting for Dean to man-up and ask. But he can’t, his tongue doesn’t want to forms words and his voice is trapped in his throat. He can’t make himself ask for help, he’s never been able to and it’s even worse now that he doesn’t even know the guy. He’s prideful and he knows it. Always has been.

Castiel must have noticed Dean was having some sort of internal struggle because he smiles gently and nods in the direction he was walking in. “Come on.”

Dean walks after him slowly, keeping behind the man seems less embarrassing for some reason. Castiel walks casually, as if this was just a normal day for him. As they walk, Dean notices Castiel saying hello to almost everyone they pass by. Waving into shop windows and shaking hands with some dodgy characters hanging out by the entrances to alleyways. Dean frowns at the other man the entire walk until he stops in front of a coded security door attached to a less than delightful looking brick-faced building.

Dean scrunches up his nose as he looks up at the building. “This it?”

Castiel smirks as he punches in a code and the door buzzes open. “My palace.” He says, winking at Dean and gesturing for him to go in.

Dean walks in and Castiel shuts the door behind them. If Dean has any second thoughts about going to some strangers place, this would be the time to put them into action and get the hell outta Dodge while he still can. But he doesn’t. He’s too tired and hungry to care what the guys intentions are.

Just beyond the door, is a small entryway and a flight of stairs that leads both down and up. Dean assumes that the downstairs is probably a laundry facility for the building and starts making his way up as soon as Castiel takes the lead.

They walk in silence for a few floors before Castiel turns left onto the fourth floor and walks down the open plan hallway. The hallway is actually more of a large shared balcony that runs along the whole floor. Some people have their washing hanging over it in the sun like he had seen earlier on in the other buildings.

Castiel stops after a few doors and digs his keys out of his pocket to unlock the security gate.

“Woohoo Cassie!” A female voice calls from two doors down.

Dean looks up to find a gorgeous blonde leaning against her door frame in nothing but a tank top and her underwear, smiling lazily at Castiel and then at him.

“Hello Meg.” Castiel smiles back as he unlocks his security gate.

“Who’s your friend?” She purrs, looking Dean up and down and smirking at his bewildered facial expression.

“This is Dean. Dean that’s Meg.”

Dean lifts his hand and gives a twitchy two fingered wave and smirks back at her. “Hey.”

Meg looks him over one last time and then turns her attention back to Castiel. “Cassie, can I stop by later?”

Castiel throws a quick glance at Dean before he answers. “I’ll come to you. You’ll be here the whole day?”

Meg runs her hand up and down the door frame looking bored. “Yeah, nothin’ going on today, but I’m going out tonight out at like seven, so before then would be lovely.”

“Your usual I presume?” Castiel asks still throwing glances at Dean.

“Yup.”

“I’ll be there in an hour or so.” Castiel says unlocking his door and smiling at Meg.

“Thanks Babe!” Meg turns her gaze back to Dean and bites her bottom lip. “Bye Dean.”

“Uh bye.” Dean curses himself for sounding like an idiot, but Meg just giggles and walks back into her apartment.

Dean turns back to Castiel with raised eyebrows. “Friendly neighbours.”

Castiel huffs and closes his eyes before looking back at Dean intensely. Deans brain takes this opportunity to notice how fucking blue the guys eyes are. Were they like that the whole time?

“Ground rules.” Castiels says, suddenly cutting into Deans staring.

Dean blinks at him but doesn’t quite register “I’m sorry?”

“We need to set out some ground rules before you come in. I don’t want you robbing me or breaking anything.” Castiel answers plainly.

Dean snorts and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you should have thought of that before you invited the guy sleeping on the side of the street to your place.”

Castiels lips twitch with the intention of smiling but he doesn’t. “Are you going to rob me Dean?”

Dean narrows his eyes at the other man and sighs. “No, I am not going to steal from you, I have my own crap thanks.”

Castiel smiles as if he is genuinely happy to hear that. “Well great. But there are still ground rules.”

Dean puts on his best ‘I’m already bored’ face and leans against the wall with his arms crossed. He just wants to get some food and this guy is making it as hard as possible for him to do that.

 

“No stealing.” Castiel says lifting a finger to indicate the first rule.

Dean huffs and rolls his eyes again. “Yeah I think we fucking covered that!”

Castiel frowns and holds up a second finger. “No swearing.”

Deans mouth falls open and he stares at Castiel with a bemused expression. “Are you fucking serious? What kind of rule is that?”

“A rule that is obviously too complex for you to understand because you’ve already broken it.” Castiel sighs

“Dude it’s my mouth, I’ll cuss if I want to!”

“And it’s _my_ apartment and I say, when you are in it, no swearing.” Castiel says smiling serenely

Smug fucking asshole, thinks he can tell a grown ass man how he’s supposed to speak, Dean thinks to himself. But it’s not like he has any other choice at the moment and at least the guy is just a language freak and has a ‘no swearing rule’ instead of a ‘no pants rule’ or something else weird like that.

“Fine.”

Castiels smile widens “Terrific! Now, rule three.” He carries on enthusiastically lifting his third finger.

“You may stay as long as you need to, but I do not appreciate leeches. If you are to stay here, you’re going to start looking for a job immediately, which I assume you don’t have considering you were still sleeping at two on a Wednesday afternoon. You’re going to get your act together.”

Deans frown is only growing deeper with every rule Castiel brings up and he’s not a big fan of the condescending attitude either. “Yeah well what kind of job do you have if you were just walking around at two on a Wednesday?”

Castiel responds by raising a fourth finger. “Rule four. What I do for a living is of no concern to you and neither is anything in my bedroom, closet, cupboards etcetera, you will stay out of my room. Anywhere else in the apartment is yours, but the bedroom is off limits.”

Dean raises his eyebrows at that, but he guesses it makes sense. He wouldn’t want anyone digging through his crap either, but it’s the job thing that has Dean second guessing his decision to go to some strangers place again.

“Anything else?” Dean asks putting on an obviously fake smile.

Castiel looks to the side for a couple of seconds trying to remember if there was anything else he needed to say. “When I remember something, I’ll let you know.” Castiel says as he walks inside.

Dean follows right behind Castiel and steps into the small hallway while Castiel shuts and padlocks the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is invited into Castiels home. He's not happy about one of Castiels new rules.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not Beta read.  
> Let me know if there are any problems guys :).  
> warnings... swearing?  
> mentions of drug use.

Castiel leads Dean through the hallway that opens up into a small living room with beige carpeting and a black leather couch in front of a mounted flat screen TV. There’s a glass table in front of the couch with a small round glass vase holding an arrangement of flowers sitting in the middle of it.

Castiel shows Dean the bathroom, which has a bath with a built in shower head and your obvious toilet and basin with a mirrored cabinet above it. He is then shown the kitchen. A small L- shaped room with the fridge across from the door and built in cabinets lining the walls at face height and hip height. Deans Surprised to see that Castiel also has a pretty decent looking oven as well. He’d half expected it to be one of those old white ovens that come with the apartment and are just a stained mess.

But Castiels oven is pretty awesome. Its sleek black and has cherry red accents, which Dean would never have thought he’d like, but it works.

Castiel then shows Dean the main bedroom, which he’s not allowed in, but Castiel had explained that it would be weird if he stayed there and didn’t know what the whole place looked like.

The bedroom is simple. It has the same light beige carpeting as the living room has. The curtains are a chocolate brown colour and match the wooden base of the bed. The sheets on the bed are white and there’s a brown blanket running the width of the bottom of the bed. Deans almost certain that the pillows and comforter are filled with down feathers. Damn this dude has nice stuff for the crappy apartment building he lives in.

 Opposite the bed against the wall closest to the door is a chest of drawers the same colour as the bed base and on the left hand wall opposite the windows is the built in cupboard. Where Dean is meant to keep away from.

“I’m going to make something for us to eat. It’s seems like it’s been a while since you’ve had anything.” Castiel says as he walks back to the kitchen.

Dean is just about to say that it hasn’t been _that_ long, but before he can, his stomach lets out a loud grumble that makes him shut his mouth and blush.

Castiel looks over his should and chuckles. “I’ll take that as a yes then.”

Dean looks down at his feet and wishes the blush in his cheeks away.

“You may go shower in the meantime if you’d like.” Castiel says as he digs for ingredients in the cupboards.

“Ah, yeah sure. Yeah I’ll do that.” Dean mutters, stumbling over his words.

He walks over to the bathroom and starts up the water on the bath tub. He throws his leather jacket on the back of the toilet and sits with his hand in the water flowing from the tap to make sure it’s the right temperature.

He moves away from the tub and lifts his shirt over his head. He’s just about to close the door and take off the rest of his clothes when he realise he doesn’t have anything to change into except the clothes he has on, and they’re pretty disgusting; covered in street dirt and unknown smells from unknown places and stained with what is probably alcohol and sweat.

Dean stares down at the bath tub and contemplates washing his clothes in the tub while he’s in there. He also doesn’t have a towel. Dammit.

“Dean?” Castiel says quietly from the door causing Dean to jump.

“Jesus! Dude don’t do that!” Dean says holding a hand over his heart and breathing deeply.

“Language.” Castiel says calmly as he walks into the bathroom.

Dean rolls his eyes before noticing that Castiel is holding a towel and a shirt and sweat pants in his arms.  

“I’m sorry for intruding, but I brought you a towel.” Castiel says softly staring down at the bundle in his arms. “And some fresh clothes, I wasn’t sure how my jeans would fit you so I just brought sweat pants. I hope that’s alright?”

Castiel doesn’t look up at Dean while he speaks and it gives Dean the chance to study the man. To search for signs in his expression that might show what exactly he wanted from him.

“Why are you doing this Cas?” Dean asks softly.

Castiel blinks and raises his head to frown at Dean. He actually looks genuinely confused by the question.

“I don’t understand?” Castiel replies doing the tilty head thing again.

Dean chuckles lightly and gestures around the room. “This, all of this, why are you doing this for me?”

The frown disappears from Castiels face and is replaced with a look of recognition and he nods his head lightly before replying.

 “I- I’m not entirely sure.” Castiel says huffing out a soft laugh.

Dean smirks at the reply. “So you don’t do this very often then?”

“No. No not at all.” Castiel is still smiling as he speaks, as if he can’t really believe what he’s doing either. “Maybe… maybe I felt the person in the photo with you deserved to see you again. And that wasn’t going to happen if I left you there.”

Castiels voice trails off with his confession and he stares back down at the clothes in his arms, his face set in back in a serious scowl.

“My brother. Sam.” Dean offers quietly.

He feels sick thinking about Sammy. He hasn’t seen him in months and he doesn’t plan on seeing him anytime soon either. He wants to. Hell does he want to. But after everything that’s happened, he can’t make himself go back and face that disappointed look on Sammys’ face.

Castiel looks back up and shifts from serious to serene effortlessly. He doesn’t ask any questions and moves to give Dean the towel and clothes.

Dean reaches out for the clothes and turns his head to say thank you to Castiel. When he looks at Castiel, he notices the man is staring at something. His expression completely blank and devoid of emotion. Dean follows Castiels gaze all the way to his own arms, to the crease of his elbows just above his forearm.

Dean rushes to cover his arms with the towel and the clothes. But he knows it’s too late. Castiels already seen. He glances up at Castiel slowly and waits for him to say something. To judge him, to lecture him, hell he may even kick him out.

Castiel doesn’t say anything though, he watches Dean, almost like he’s waiting for him to say something too and his facial expression is still blank, not giving anything away.  

“The food will be ready soon, I just made hotdogs. I hope that’s fine.” Castiel says while turning around and walking out of the bathroom, not even waiting for a reply.

Dean stares at the spot where Castiel was standing and curses himself internally.

Fuck. fuck. _fuck._

Well that was short lived. He’s going to be kicked out for sure. Castiel isn’t going to want him in the house anymore because of this. He didn’t expect that he would get to stay very long, but a couple of minutes is pretty pathetic even for him.

He continues his self-loathing downward spiral as he baths and tries to scrub the street smell off of himself. He doesn’t realise that he’s taking his frustrations out on his skin until it’s already scratched red and almost raw from the loofa he was using so aggressively.

Dean sighs and lets out the bath water. He’s been sitting in there for a long time now, procrastinating and too scared to face Castiel again. While he’s busy drying himself off he realises that he doesn’t need to explain himself to anyone. Not even Castiel. Yeah sure the guy had let him stay at his place, but that didn’t mean that he owed him any explanations about his life.

Dean accepts his minds alternative to feeling ashamed of himself and to rather give the current situation an ‘It’s none of your fucking business’ approach. Of course he wouldn’t actually _say_ that. Castiels no swearing rule and all.

He throws on the sweatpants, which seem to fit him fine enough, even if they are a bit tighter on his thighs than his normal sized sweat pants would have been, then pulls the shirt over his head. It’s black and seems way too big to be one of Castiels everyday shirts. Dean thinks the guy probably likes sleeping in oversized shirts or something and this is one of them.

Dean hangs the towel on a hook on the back of the door and takes a deep breath as he opens the door and walks out. He walks into the living room and finds a plate with two hotdogs waiting for him on the glass table. He’s not sure where Castiel is but as soon as he sees the hotdogs he heads straight for the couch and starts devouring them.

He’s just about half way through his second one when he hears the front door open and close and the latch put in place again.

Castiel walks into the living room and smirks when he sees Dean looking up at him with his mouth full.

“I see you found the hotdogs. There’s more in the kitchen if you’re still hungry after that.” Castiel says as he drops down onto the couch next to Dean.

Dean just smiles and nods his head.

So far so good he thinks to himself as he glances at Castiel out of the corner of his eye.

“Where were you?” Dean asks, his mouth still full.

Castiel scrunches his nose up at Dean a little and then chuckles, obviously finding Deans table manners more funny than repulsive.

“I was at Megs’.” Castiel answers shortly, not giving any more indication as to why he was there, but Deans pretty certain he knows why.

Meg is _smoking_ hot and is obviously not shy when it comes to her body, and Castiel… well Castiel is obviously a pretty good looking guy and it’s only natural that two good looking people would gravitate towards each other.

Deans on his last mouthful of hotdog when Castiel speaks again.

“Rule five.”

Dean frowns and looks up at Castiel and tries to talk through the food in his mouth “Whmmat?”

Castiel just rolls his eyes and turns on the couch to face Dean properly. “Rule five Dean. I said I would tell you if I remembered anymore rules.”

Dean swallows the food in his mouth and nods, gesturing for Castiel to carry on.

Castiel looks Dean straight in the eyes, holding his gaze to let him know that this is important.

“No drugs.”

Deans blood turns cold in his veins as he stares at Castiel and then down at his arms. He licks his lips slowly and takes a deep breath before he replies. “I ah, I don’t-.”

“Please do not insult my intelligence Dean. It is fairly obvious and I am just letting you know, that it will not be happening in my house.” Castiel is radiating calm as he speaks, but Dean notices the edge behind his voice. It’s deadly serious and warrants no argument. “Do you understand me?”

Dean blushes crimson with shame and embarrassment and possibly a little anger. Castiel, this person who didn’t know him from a bar of fucking soap, was once again telling him what to do and how to act. Who the fuck did he think he was?

The guy whose apartment you’re staying in and whose food you’re eating, Deans own brains slams back at him.

 Dean doesn’t say anything. Once again he reminds himself that it could be worse. Although at this point in time he’s not quite sure how. One side of his mind is yelling at him to just accept the rule because it’s going to do him some good anyway. But the other side of his mind -the side where that cocky asshole bent on ruining his life resides- is telling him to flip this guy off and get high right on his doorstep.

“Dean?” Castiels voice is softer now and his face is full of concern and it makes Dean sick. He doesn’t want pity, he doesn’t want help. He just wants to be fucking left alone. “Dean, you don’t need that sort of thing in your life… it’ll ruin you.”

That’s the moment when Deans decided he’s had enough and pushes himself off the couch and turns to glare at Castiel “You don’t fucking know me, okay?” he yells down at the other man. “ You don’t know why I fucking do what I do, you don’t know jack shit!”

“You’re right Dean. I don’t know your story, but I do know that if you keep going the way you’re going, it’s not going to end happy. It never does.” Castiel doesn’t get angry, he doesn’t yell back. He speaks calmly and matter-of-factly, and it pisses Dean off.

“ _Fuck you_.” Dean spits out and stalks off to the bathroom where he left his stuff.

He shrugs on his leather jacket and puts his boots on. He’s going to look like an idiot walking around in combat boots and sweat pants but he really couldn’t give a shit at this point. He picks up his dirty clothes and walks back through the living room towards the front door.

He passes Castiel on his way to the door and pushes past him.

“Dean, where do you plan on going?” Castiel asks, his voice betraying him and revealing some of the frustration he’s been hiding.  

“Somewhere I can get fucking high and no one’s going to give a shit.” He says as he tears at the padlock and swings the door open violently. “And I’m keeping your clothes.” He adds before he slams the door shut behind him.

Dean makes his way quickly down the hallway and onto the flight of stairs. He’s almost certain he heard Castiel yell something before he left but he couldn’t be damned with what it was. He can’t believe he had actually been so stupid and gone to some strangers’ apartment and thought that he could just stay there no strings attached. Well that was an idiotic move on his part.

No one was going to tell him how to live his life. Especially not some holier than thou asshole that he didn’t even know. If he wanted to get high, well then he was going to damn well get high, and he was going to do it as soon as possible too, just to prove a point.

Dean tears down the stairs and out the door. He knows he doesn’t have any money left on him so he’s still going to have to get money from the bank. He knows a couple of people that buy from this neighbourhood on a daily basis, so he knows it’s going to be easy to get what he wants.

He stops at the bank and is actually surprised to see that there’s money in his account, more than he remembers there being actually.

Sammy.

He knows Sam tries to help him out when it comes to financials every now and again. It usually makes his blood boil because he doesn’t like accepting money from his little brother, but right now he’s just relieved. Yeah it’s probably a jackass move to use the money your brother gave you for food and shelter to buy drugs, but then again his little brother should know better than to think Dean will actually put the money to good use.

He folds the money and puts it in his wallet as he walks down the street to where one of his buddies had told him he could get the best product. He wishes he could just get there sooner, his skin is starting to crawl and itch and his hands are shaking like crazy. It’s not so bad yet, but he knows once he starts breaking out in a cold sweat, that’s when it will start getting a bit unbearable.

He crosses the street and walks to what looks to be an abandoned warehouse, but he knows better. These places are never actually abandoned. He walks around the building and heads for the back door. When he rounds the corner, he notices two guys standing at the back door, both in clothes way too big for them, either because they think it’s cool or because they’ve lost so much weight from the drug use that their clothes just don’t fit them anymore.

He walks slowly up to them, trying to make himself not look so intimidating, but he’s clearly way bigger than the both of them. He hasn’t been using enough for as long as they obviously have been using, to look like they do. He has noticed a few pounds disappearing here and there lately though. That’s what happens when you opt for a fix instead of food.

By the time he reaches them, he’s noticed them both cradling their hips with their right hand, probably getting ready to use their guns if anything had to happen. He lifts his hands in surrender and quirks his best smile at them.

“Hey fellas. I’m not lookin’ for trouble, just heard about your little place here from a buddy of mine… Ash?” Dean looks at the two men expectantly, hoping name dropping will at least get them to take their hands of off their guns.

The men share a knowing glance before one gets out his phone and starts calling someone.

“Your name?” The guys with the phone asks

“Dean.”

The guy raises his eyebrow. “Dean Who?”

Dean sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not giving you my fucking last name asshole. Ash knows who I am.”

The other guy has started reaching for his gun again and Dean realises he needs to play nice if he’s going to get what he wants, but he’s on edge right now and it’s causing him to get all hot and bothered.

“Yeah, hey Ash, what’s up man?” The guy on the cell phone eventually says through the phone.

“Great man. Look, I’ve got a Dean I’m-not-telling-you-my-last-fucking-name here and he says he knows you.”

Both men are still eyeing Dean warily, but he can see they guy holding the phone has visibly relaxed and is nodding his head at whatever Ash is telling him.

“Awesome, thanks dude.” The guy hangs up the phone and smiles brightly at Dean as he opens the door.

“Have fun asshole.”

Dean smiles back and lets a little bit of smugness shine through too as he walks past the two men into the warehouse.

“That’s the idea Bitch.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean starts to feel like he's in over his head going into the warehouse and ends up in a pretty bad situation while he's there. And a little someone comes to his rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song mentioned in this chapter is "Kid Cudi feat Skylar Grey- Hero".
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Drug use and graphic depictions of drug use (That last one is not by main characters)

 When Dean walks through the back door of the warehouse, he is instantly hit by the smell of a variety of different amphetamines and maybe some pot coming from the guys standing in the shadows a little bit in front of him too.

The warehouse is dark, only a few dim lights lighting the place, probably to add to the whole experience. That could be the only explanation considering it’s a factory and there should be plenty lighting. He also notices that the part of the warehouse he’s stepped into seems to be where the offices used to be. The doors to the offices however have been taken off their hinges and replaced by curtains.

He’s heard of places like this before but he’s never actually been to one, basically it’s an overnight house for druggies. People come in and pick their poison and for a small fee you can rent out one of the rooms and ride your high out on a disgustingly overused mattress on the floor. Sometimes there are even prostitutes hanging around just in case someone has a little too much money burning a hole in their pocket and maybe likes the idea of getting high with a pretty lady.

Dean is still busy contemplating what he’s doing in a dodgy place like this, when a man starts walking towards him. The guy kind of reminds him of Sammy; he’s a really tall and pretty buff looking guy, with the same long brown hair and hairstyle that he’s always teased Sam about.

“Hey man, what’s up?” The guy says holding his hand out to Dean. “Names’ Luther.”

Dean stares down at the guys hand hesitantly before shaking it and smiling nervously.

“Dean.”

”Pleasure Dean. So what can I do you for this fine evening?” Luther says casually, as if this was just some little flower shop in the good part of town and he was helping Dean pick out the best arrangement.

Dean licks his lips nervously, starting to get annoyed with how dry they are and twists his hands together not really knowing where to put them or what to do with them. “Well, ah, I’ve never actually been to a place like this before… I’m not really sure-.”

“Aha! A newbie. Not a problem Dean.” Luther says slapping Dean on the back and then throwing his arm around Deans shoulders and leading him forward. “I’ll give you the grand tour, tell you what we’re all about and perhaps we can figure out what it is you’re into.”

Dean isn’t sure how to respond to the guys’ casual attitude, it’s confusing. He knows the guy’s a drug dealer and he’s never liked those guys on the best of days. They’re the worlds’ greatest salesman and also the worlds’ greatest con artists. They’re in an industry where what they say goes and if you don’t like it well then you don’t get the product. In any other situation a person would just walk away and find a substitute, but in this case, they have their clients hooked on something in particular and if they want to raise the price well then you either go along with it and cough up all your savings or get clean. Guess how many people actually go for the last option.

“So Dean these are some of the rooms we have. Let’s see if we can find a vacant one and you can have a peek.” Luther says as he leads down a hall way lined with small rooms on either side of them.

It’s at this point that Dean takes notice of the music playing in the background over the intercom. It fits well with the atmosphere this place radiates and sends chills down his spine as it pulses around him. The smells have got stronger as they’ve been walking, obviously coming from the occupants of the rooms around him, it makes him light headed and he sways a little as he walks.

Luther has walked down the hallway ahead of him and is talking to a very large bald guy standing at the end of the hallway. Dean walks over to them and see’s Luther light up a joint that the bald guy has just given him. He takes a long pull and breathes out slowly smiling lazily at Dean through the cloud of smoke and holds it out for Dean to take as the music continues almost as if encouraging him.

_There’s only one way_

_And it’s down this road…_

Dean stares at it, trying to decide whether it’s a good idea to take a joint from someone he’s just met. There could be all kinds of other crap in the thing and the fact that it’s a drug dealer offering it to him just makes him all the more sceptical. Luther sees Deans hesitation and chuckles.

“Aw come on Dean, it’s a freebee, relax a little.”

Dean swallows hard and slowly takes the joint from Luther. The word ‘relax’ had triggered something in him and he’s started to realise again just how badly he was craving right now and he just hopes it will do something to alleviate the nervousness and anxiety he’s feeling.

He takes a slow, long pull and holds it. This was something he was pretty familiar with, having upgraded from cigarettes to weed when he was in eleventh grade and hanging out with the detention crowd after school. Dean holds the smoke until it starts to burn his lungs and he lets it out slowly, feeling some of his tension leave with it and being replaced by light-headedness.

_Have no fear of fallin’_

He gives Luther the same lazy smile he had got from the man earlier and holds out the joint for him to take.

Luther just shakes his head and smiles. “Nah man, that’s yours. Think of it as a welcome present.” Luther explains, winking at Dean and turning around to gesture at the bald guy standing behind him. “Dean, this is Mark.” Luther says putting a hand on Marks shoulder. “He’s one of a few lovely gentlemen that keep an eye on the rooms. Basically they’re just here to make sure that no one bothers each other and that you will have complete privacy.”

Dean takes another puff and chuckles internally. So they were _really_ there to make sure no one got robbed blind while they’re high. He had expected that to be a problem when he saw the rooms didn’t have doors but hadn’t gotten around to asking about it. Well at least they cared about customer safety and satisfaction.

“So, Mark says this room is vacant.” Luther says as he walks up next to Dean and places a hand on the small of his back guiding him to the furthest room at the end of the hallway. Damn this dude was touchy feely.

Luther pulls the curtain out of the way and Dean can see that the office has been split in two parts by a room divider, obviously trying to make room for more customers. The office had been small as it was, putting the room divider in has left only enough space on both sides for them to fit a mattress. Dean is pulled back from the illusion of Luthers hotelier attitude by the sight of the room. He had forgotten for a second where he had come and had somehow worked himself up to a point where he is actually disappointed in what he sees in the room.

“Of course it’s no five star. But it’s something and it’s dirt cheap too.” Luther says closing the curtain quickly and looking back at Dean expectantly.

Dean is still staring at the curtain though. He can tell he’s probably zoning out on the guy, but that was to be expected considering he’s almost worked his way through the whole joint Luther had given him. Holy crap he needed to slow it down.

_Have no fear of fallin’_

He doesn’t want to stay here. He can’t make himself do it. It wasn’t the mattress on the floor that had done it though. Dean spent his whole childhood sleeping on less than that at times and it’s never bugged him. Heck he could sleep on nothing and he’d still find a way to get comfortable, hence how he was able to fall asleep on the pavement this morning.

None of that bothered him. What bothered him was what he saw in the other half of the room. Luther had obviously been mistaken when he had said the room was vacant, but perhaps he only meant the one side, because there had been a woman on the other side of the room.

No, not even a woman, she looked young, too young to be in a place like this. Her dark hair was greasy and hung in strands across her face, her arms were bruised and her skin was pale, she looked like she had just crawled out of a gutter, her clothes were filthy and it looked as if it was the only set of clothing she probably owned.

She was leaning up against the wall but she wasn’t conscious, her head lolling down and to the side. There was a needle still in her hands and the long thin tube she used on her arm to cut off the blood supply while she injected herself was lying in her lap. The sight made Dean feel sick to his stomach. Seeing someone so young doing that to themselves. He was young too but he was an idiot and had nothing much else to offer the world. This girl probably had so much potential.

“Dean?”

But that still wasn’t what was making him feel sick. What was really making his stomach turn was the fact that as soon as he had seen the drugs next to her, he had wanted to crawl up next to her unconscious body and shoot up right there and then. That instinct had come before his instinct to worry about the girl and feel sad for her, and that’s what was scaring him right now.

“Dean, you okay man?”

How had he come to the point where he cared more about getting high and for a small moment had felt nothing for the girl but jealousy?

Dean leans his head against the wall and closes his eyes. He’s carried on smoking the joint mindlessly while he had been staring at the curtain and there was nothing left of it. It had definitely done something to calm his nerves before but he was starting to feel it work his brain up into a panic.

It’s too dark, too hot, the place reeks of what he’s pretty sure is a mixture of sex, drugs and shame. The noises coming from the rooms next door are vile and make his face pull into a scowl. His heart is beating ten times its normal rate and his breathing has picked up its pace.

This isn’t a good idea. He’s not like this. This _seriously_ is not his scene. He should leave and he should never touch drugs again. Or he could grab something light on his way out and get high in a public bathroom or something. Yeah, that sounds way classier.

“Dude stop. You’re freaking out on me.” Luther has moved in front of Dean and has put his hands on Deans shoulders and is trying to get him to breathe properly. “Deep breaths man, it’s alright.”

Dean is still trying to control his breathing when he hears another voice shout his name from down the hallway. He looks up at Luther and sees the other man frown and look in the direction where the voice came from.

“You heard that right?” Dean says staring at Luther with wide eyes.

Luther looks back at him and laughs. “Yeah dude, I heard it, I don’t think you’re that far gone to be imagining voices.”

“Dean?” The voice calls again, this time closer.

Dean frowns. The voice is male and it definitely sounds familiar. He doesn’t look for where the voice is coming from though, he’s still trying to get himself under control. Right now he’s moved closer to Luther and his own hand is on the mans’ shoulder to steady himself.

“Dean!” The voice yells down the hallway again causing Dean to roll his eyes. This was just getting annoying.

“Fuck, I’m over here!” He calls out and instantly feels light headed again and closes his eyes.

He can here quick footsteps coming down the hallway and can feel Luther straighten up in front of him.

“Castiel? What the hell are you doing here?” Luther growls.

Castiel? Deans eyes shoot open and he turns his head quickly to the side to stare with wide eyes at the other man. He’s still wearing that ridiculous trench coat he had on earlier, but his cheeks look flushed and he’s breathing heavily.

Castiel completely ignores Luther and looks at Dean with concern in his eyes. “Dean. Are you alright?”

Dean nods slowly, his eyes still wide and his brain trying to play catch up. What’s happening? Why is Castiel here?

“What did you give him?” Castiel sounds calm enough, but there’s acid behind his words when he addresses Luther.

“Dude, he had one joint.” Luther says rolling his eyes.

Dean’s seriously not feeling well, something’s wrong. His breathing is just getting more and more erratic and his body is starting to feel a little numb. He’s having trouble concentrating on Castiel and Luther and he knows he’s probably digging a bruise into Luthers shoulder with the way he’s holding on.

“Don’t play dumb, I know you get a kick out of lacing your weed, what else was in it?” Castiel growls and moves to shove Luther out the way and puts his hand on the side of Deans neck, just under his chin to hold his head up so he can look at Deans eyes. “His eyes are dilated.”

“Yeah, from the fucking _weed._ ” Luther huffs

“No. This is different.” Castiel says eyeing Dean and looking down his body for any other signs.

Dean keeps his gaze locked on Castiels face. The man seems calm, but at the same time Dean can see obvious worry in his eyes that he doesn’t understand or appreciate. He doesn’t deserve people worrying about him. This is exactly the reason he stays far away from his family. He only causes trouble.

“Dean, how do you feel?” Castiel asks as he moves Dean back to lean him against the wall so he doesn’t fall over.

“I’m fucking spectacular.” Dean says between shallow breaths.

“Dean, how do you _feel_?” Castiel growls, clearly not in the mood to deal with Deans sarcasm.

Dean swallows around the dry lump in his throat. It feels like he can’t get enough air into his lungs and it _burns_.

“Can’t. breath.” Dean chokes out, closing his eyes “Throat burns. Legs feel like fucking jelly.”

Castiel frowns at him and rolls his eyes. “For someone who can’t breathe, you’d think it would be wise for you not to waste oxygen on profanities.”

Seriously? Again with the cussing thing? Did this guy ever stop?

“Castiel, you can’t stay here. You either leave and let him ride it out here, or you take him with you. I don’t really care but you’re not staying here.” Luther says as he gestures for Mark to come over.

“I’m not letting him ride anything out here.” Castiel snaps at Luther and shifts his gaze in Marks direction and then back at Dean. “Dean. The weed you smoked was laced.” Castiel says calmly.

Deans heart drops and his eyes widen. He knew it. He fucking _knew it_ and he’d still somehow managed to convince himself that it was a good idea to accept it anyway. But he couldn’t understand why Luther would do that? It was a waste of money to lace weed with anything stronger, why the hell would this asshole do it?

“Calm down Dean.” Castiel puts his hands on the sides of Dean’s face and makes him look at him. “It’s nothing to worry about, the drug it’s been laced with is called PCP. Heard of it?”

Deans not really listening. He’s staring at Castiels eyes. How can they be so bright in such a dark place? They actually kind of remind him of the angel in the movie “Gabriel”. Now that movie was _badass_ , and the way Castiel was being kind of a badass right now, with his blue eyes and weird name just made Dean compare him to the angel even more.

“Dean? Did you hear me?” Castiel frowns at Dean and taps his cheek to make him concentrate.

“Mmm, PCP?” Castiels words are finally catching up to Dean and he snorts as he remembers the street name. “Angel Dust.” Dean breathes out and starts chuckling.

Castiel tilts his head and looks at Dean with even more concern touching his expression. “Yes… that’s right, however I do not see why that is so funny?”

“Angel Dust? Angel?” Dean tries to explain through huffs of laughter and ragged breaths. “Like you.”

Holy shit did he seriously just say that? Well that was gonna sound like the corniest pick up line in history, especially since Castiel didn’t even understand the reasoning behind it.

A small smile works its way onto Castiels lips and Dean is certain he can see the man blush a light pink. “I do not think it’s as funny as you think it is Dean.”

“M’fuckin’ hilarious.” Dean grumbles, feeling himself calm down a little, but his limbs are still not working properly.

“Castiel.” Luther says next to them, breaking them out of whatever weird ass moment they were having.

“Yes Luther. We’re going. Can Mark help me take him to the car please?” Castiel asks calmly as he puts his arm around Deans waist, holding him up as he tries to walk them forward.

“Mark.” Luther says snapping his fingers at Mark and then gesturing to Dean and Castiel.

Mark obeys immediately and moves to hold Dean up from the other side. He feels ridiculous, having to be carried out like this, and all from one joint? Damn he was weak.

They carry Dean all the way through the warehouse and out the back door. The sun has already set below the skyline and Dean sends up a silent prayer of thank you, because he’s pretty sure any type of harsh light right now was just going to make him sick.

Once out the door, they drag Dean into the passenger seat of Castiels car, which must have been parked right by the door, because they didn’t have to go very much further to get to it.

“Wait, Castiel.” Luther says as Castiel is just about to climb into the drivers seat.

Castiel looks up at Luther and lets all his anger and annoyance filter through his icy expression.

“How ah, how did know it was PCP?” Luther asks running his hand through his hair and not looking at Castiel directly.

Castiel smirks. “You’re predictable Luther. You’re also manipulative. It’s easier to get new customers to buy from you when you give them a little push. You’re an awful person Luther and it’s going to catch up to you one day.”

Luther just smiles at Castiels words. “There were muscle relaxers in there too by the way. How’s that for predictable?” Luther winks at Castiels now hostile expression and turns and struts back into the warehouse.

Dean hears Castiel curse under his breath as he slides into the drivers seat and he raises his eyebrows at the other man. Castiel doesn’t fail to notice the accusatory look Dean is giving him and starts the car with a huff.

“Language Castiel.”

“Shut up.” He grumbles as he puts the car in gear and heads back in the direction of his apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be fluff in this fic I promise :). I'm not going to leave everyone feeling horrible... 
> 
> thanks for reading! :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel gets Dean to tell him how he ended up how he is now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Withdrawal symptoms.  
> If there is anything else I should tag let me know! :)

Castiel has to help Dean out of the car and into the apartment, they stumble up the four flights of stairs and Castiel is breathing heavily by the time they make it to the door. Dean thinks he’s perfectly capable of walking but Castiel is being a really pushy asshole about it all and refuses to let him walk on his own.

Dean is still really light headed but his heart rate has slowed down considerably and he’s moved from panicked to a sort of dazed out numb feeling. It feels like a normal high except it has that extra kick from the PCP and muscle relaxers that have him moving along but not really taking in what’s happening.

He vaguely remembers the drive back… back to where? Where was he? It all looks kind of familiar to him as he’s dragged through the different rooms and into what seems like a bathroom. Despite how numb and dazed out he feels, he still notices how cold the room is and he notices the warmth he feels touching him on his arms and then on his back.

He’s completely zoned out on the place now, it seems like a good time to have a nap and he had closed his eyes a while ago already and it seems that he’s somehow been worked into a sitting position with his back against something hard and cold. The already cold room is getting colder, like ice shards are hitting his skin.

Dean bolts upright and sputters as the cold water from the shower hits him. He still has his clothes on and when he tries to get out of the way of the freezing water, the warmth is back on his arms and chest and is keeping him from jumping out of the tub.

He looks up and glares at Castiel and then at the mans’ hands pressed against his chest and holding his left shoulder, making it difficult for him to get up.

“Cas what the fuck man? Are you crazy? I still have my fucking clothes on you asshole!”

Dean yells at him and tries to pry the other mans hands away from him. Castiel is a lot stronger than Dean gave him credit for though and pushes Dean back down easily when he seems to be making even a little progress.

“If you are looking for sympathy from me right now Dean, I assure you, you will not find any.” Castiel has that stupid calm look on his face again. Except this time there’s something else in the expression that looks scarily like disappointment and it sends a sharp pain to Deans chest. Why the hell should that bother him so much?

Dean gives up. He’s too tired and even though the cold water worked to get him out of his head, he still feels completely drained and he’s not sure he can keep up fighting Castiel for too much longer. He sighs and leans back against the back of the bath again and shivers in the cold splash of water.

Castiel stares at Dean with satisfaction for a few moments and then moves to turn the water off. Dean is shivering even harder now, his clothes soaking wet and heavy, just making things worse.

“Dean you need to remove your clothes.”

A sharp shiver moves its way through Deans body and he jerks his head up to stare at the other man. He had said it so casually that Dean would assume that he’s going to leave the room while he does so but he’s not moving. He’s just standing there staring with a blank look on his face.

“Ah, yeah, no shit. Can you leave?” Dean says it quietly, trying not be offensive but at the same time making it clear he’s not entirely comfortable with the man being there while he undressed. He wasn’t shy about his body or anything, but it still felt weird, he still considers Castiel somewhat of a stranger, even though they have already been through a hell of a lot during the few hours they’ve known each other.

“Can you manage on your own?” Castiel asks, squatting down next to the tub and moving his hands to Deans shirt.

Dean shifts quickly away from Castiel and stares up at him with wide eyes. “What are you doing?”

Castiel sighs and rubs his eyes, he looks beat and it makes Dean feel like crap because he knows it’s probably because of him. “Dean, I’m just going to help. Stop being childish.”

Dean can’t help but pout at Castiels scolding tone. He is _not_ childish. What is childish is letting someone undress you because they think you can’t manage to do it yourself.

Castiel doesn’t wait for Dean to respond and starts lifting Deans shirt up from his waist. Any other time Dean may not have objected, but right now it’s just incredibly uncomfortable and embarrassing. Castiel was right though, he would have struggled getting everything off, his limbs feel like jelly and he’s not as useful as he’s been making out to be.

Castiel pulls the wet shirt from Deans stomach and chest and guides it gently over his head and arms. It’s a relief to have some of the coldness gone from his chest. It’s only then that Dean realises that sometime before all of this, Castiel had managed to get Dean out of his boots and socks, but had obviously stopped there. He doesn’t think it would be incredibly easy to remove a half-unconscious persons clothes.

“Dean…” Castiels voice has gone low and he’s started to blush as he gestures to the sweat pants Dean is wearing.

Dean can feel his own cheeks heat up at the thought of Castiel having to take them off for him. The worst part is that he had been going free bird since he’d put them on that afternoon. He hadn’t really expected to be going anywhere and he definitely wasn’t going to put his dirty underwear back on.

“Oh, ah, yeah about that.” Dean mutters as his blush starts creeping down his neck and onto his chest. “I don’t have, uhm-.”

“Yes I noticed… you left them on the bathroom floor when you left earlier. I put them in the wash for you.” Castiel isn’t looking at Dean. He’s staring at the floor beside the tub and looking as if he’s just made a big mistake in helping Dean with his clothes.

Dean groans and throws his head in his hands. “Oh God, sorry Cas.”

Castiel smiles shyly and shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it Dean.”

Castiel pushes himself up from the side of the tub and walks over to the back of the door to grab the towel Dean had used earlier. He brings it over and drops it over Deans lap and squats back down.

“This may make things a bit easier for the both of us” He says as he moves his hands under the towel to grab at the waist band of the pants. He’s still blushing and Dean can’t help but smirk at the sight. This guy that had seemed like such a badass before, has been reduced to a nervous and awkward school boy.

Dean moves his hands on top of Castiels to stop him and he laughs lightly. “Cas just let me try. I’m seriously feeling better, I think I can manage it.”

Castiel lets out a huffed breath and smiles appreciatively back at Dean and removes his hands.

It takes Dean quite a while to get the pants off. It’s a lot harder because they’re so wet and are basically clinging to ever bit of him. Castiel just sits back on his haunches, waiting just in case Dean needs help. Eventually though, Dean gets them off and slings them over the side of the tub and they land with a wet slap in just under Castiels chin, draping over his chest and arms.

“Oh shit, Cas, my bad man.” Dean tries to be sincere but his voice is shaking trying to hold in his laughter.

Castiel has closed his eyes and his face is scrunched up. He peaks one eye open at Dean and shakes his head in mock disdain.

Dean starts laughing immediately and as soon as Castiel has dragged the wet pants away from himself, he gives a light chuckle of his own.

Dean doesn’t laugh for very long, because even that is effort at the moment and he lets it drop away with a small sigh. “Thanks Cas.” Dean says staring up at the ceiling. He’s not sure he can handle looking at the other man right now.

“I’m going to wash these.” Castiel continues as if Dean hadn’t said anything. “I’ve put another pair on the back of the toilet for you. A shirt as well.”

Castiel gets up from the floor and collects the soaking socks and shirt he had helped Dean take off. “I’d suggest a warm bath. I will set up the fold out couch for you.”

Dean nods and moves from staring at the ceiling to watch Castiel walk away and close the bathroom door. He was basically right back where he had started that afternoon, only this time, he was going to try to be a little more appreciative. He’s still not sure why Castiel is doing all of this for him, and he can’t shake his human instinct of “No one does anything nice for free.”

But if he’s completely honest with himself, Castiel actually seems like a genuinely nice person, which Dean doesn’t know how deal with because he’s never exactly been around anyone like that, except for Sam of course.

Dean runs the bath and settles down in the warmth until he’s all wrinkled and sleep dazed. He dries himself off quickly trying to avoid any more cold and puts on the clothes that Castiel had given him. When he walks back out of the bathroom he notices that the rest of the apartment is dark except for the small lamp in the living room.

Castiel has set up the fold out couch for him with a comforter and what looks to be another set of down pillows and Dean knows it’s going to be heaven to sleep in just by looking at it.

He wonders through the small apartment looking for Cas, eventually he ends up outside Castiels bedroom door, it’s cracked open slightly and the room is dark on the other side. Dean pushes the door open quietly and pops his head around it. Castiel had obviously been a lot more tired than Dean had thought because he’s already all tucked into bed and snoring lightly.

Dean smiles and closes the door silently and walks back to the living room and throws himself onto the couch. It feels even better than it looks and he just sinks right into the comforter. He leans over the side of the couch and switches off the lamp and the whole place is engulfed in sweet darkness. It doesn’t take him very long to fall asleep after that, and he doesn’t even get as far as getting under the comforter when he’s lost to unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

 

When Dean wakes up in the morning, it’s to the smell of eggs and glorious bacon. He starts salivating before his eyes are even open and sighs happily at the thought of food. He shifts slowly in his makeshift bed and winces at the headache that seemed to be sitting right behind his eye sockets. He rubs uselessly at his temples and eyes, hoping that by some miracle the pain would go away if he did this.

“A glass or two of water would probably help.” He hears Castiel say suddenly next to him. “You’re dehydrated.”

Dean opens his eyes and narrows them sleepily in Castiels direction. “An advil would work better.” He mutters tossing the covers off of himself and swinging his feet onto the floor and going back to rubbing his eyes.

“I don’t doubt that, but there is nothing like that in this house.” Castiel says as he walks back into the kitchen.

“Seriously? Who the hell doesn’t keep headache tablets around somewhere?” Dean yells in the direction of the kitchen.

“Someone who believes that nature provides us with everything we need to battle natural problems in the human body.” Castiel replies, walking back to Dean with two plates full of bacon, eggs and toast. It smells amazing and Deans instantly straightens up as he accepts the plate from Castiel.

“Oh come one! Don’t tell me your one of those organic hippie types.” Dean groans as he eyes his food hungrily. “And thanks, this looks awesome.”

Castiel sets his own plate down on the counter and walks back to the kitchen. Dean starts eating immediately and hums happily while he does so. Castiel comes back, this time with two large glasses of orange juice, which he puts them down on the table in front of them and then sits down on the bed with his food.

“So are you?” Dean asks between chewing.

“Am I what?”

“A hippie.” Dean says with a mocking smirk.

Castiel sighs “No Dean, I am not a hippie. I just think narcotics and prescription drugs are used far too casually.”

“You’re not one of those people that doesn’t believe in hospitals are you?” Dean asks frowning at the other man.

Castiel smirks as he arranges his food around his plate. “No Dean. I believe in hospitals and doctors. My point is that, if you experience certain symptoms, that is just your body trying to tell you, you need more of something, be it water, vitamin D etcetera.” Castiel shrugs and starts eating.

Dean continues to frown at him. This guy really was different to anyone he had met before. And the way he _ate._ It was clean and precise, which is strange to say about the way someone eats, but he couldn’t help but stare down at his own messy plate and feel a little embarrassed.

“If you say so.” Dean snorts. “So what’s my headache trying to tell me then?” Dean asks with raised eyebrows.

“That you’re an idiot.” Castiel mutters back quickly and then his eyes widen as if he just realised what it was he had just said and he looks apologetically back Dean.

Dean just huffs out a laugh and nods “You’re probably right.”

They eat in silence after that. It’s a little awkward but it’s not so uncomfortable that Dean feels the need to make idle conversation. When they’re both done, Dean gets up and takes their plates to the kitchen and washes them. When he walks back into the living room, Castiel is finishing off with making the bed.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Dean mumbles as he rubs his hand on the back of his neck. “I was just getting to it.”

Castiel just smiles and carries on fluffing Deans pillow. “I know.”

“You didn’t have to do any of this.” Dean continues, staring down at his feet.

Castiel looks up at him and his expression is soft. “Would you come here please Dean?”

Dean looks up in confusion but sees Castiel gesturing to the fold out couch for Dean to sit. Dean walks over, still confused but he sits down anyway. Castiel sits down next to him and shifts so that his knees are leaning towards Dean.

“Dean, I don’t want a repeat of what happened yesterday. If I ask you something, do you promise not to get upset?” Castiel is treading very carefully around his words, obviously not wanting to anger Dean again.

Dean swallows, his throat suddenly feeling dry. “Sure.”

Castiel nods and takes a minute before he asks his question, it looks like he’s trying to figure out how to ask it as gently as he can. “Dean, do you-.” Castiels cuts himself short and frowns like he’s not happy with the way he was going to approach the subject. “Are you- are you content with the way things are Dean? The way you are?”

Woah. Well that question was a bit more involved than he had expected it to be.

“This is about what I did yesterday?” Dean asks quietly, staring down at his hands in his lap.

“Yes.” Castiel admits looking at Dean like he expects him to get up and bolt. “I believe it’s important I talk to you about it.”

“I don’t know what to tell you Cas.” Dean mumbles, still not looking at the other man.

“The truth.” Castiel replies shortly

Dean frowns up at Castiel “About what?”

“Everything perhaps? How you ended up in this situation mostly.”

Dean shuffles around on the couch and clears his throat. “Cas, I’m not exactly the sharing type-.”

“If you will tell me your story… then I will tell you some of mine.” Castiel doesn’t seem too sure of himself when he says that, like he’s just as much of a sharer as Dean is, but Dean feels like he owes the guy that much.

He’s started to shake again. He’s pretty sure it’s because he hasn’t had his usual fix in a while, but it could also be nerves from having to talk about everything with someone. Castiel looks down at Deans’ shaking hands and arms and then moves his eyes back up to give Dean an expectant look.

“I’m just kind of going to touch on the basics okay? I’m not sharing my whole life story with you.” Dean says staring back challengingly at the other man. 

Castiel gives Dean a small smile and nods for him to continue.

Dean clears his throat again and takes a deep breath through his nose and lets it out through his mouth.

“So, I, uh, used to live with my brother Sam and my uncle.” Dean starts softly. “Our mom and dad died in a car accident when I was in my senior year. I guess some people handle that sorta thing better than others because Sam buried himself in books and me… well I picked up a lovely drug habit from some classy friends of mine.”

“I’m supposed to have done the whole college thing by now. Technically I would have either been looking for a job by now or working already. Sam’s in his third year already.” Dean says smiling with pride. “Pre-law. The kids smart.”

Castiel smiles at the way Dean speaks about his brother, but he doesn’t interrupt him.

“I caused a lot of problems for Sam and my uncle Bobby though. I was already getting into trouble at school before mom and dad died, but after that… well I guess I was just on a downward spiral from there.”

“It started off with weed in high school, but in my first year out of school I started partying and going out with the same classy group of friends and I started upgrading to ‘E’ and ‘Cat’. It was all about partying and good times, but every party’s gotta burn out some time.”

“At first Sam and Bobby tried to help. Bobby kept offering me a job at his auto shop or at our family friends’ diner, or anywhere he thought I could start out with. Sam kept trying to convince me to go to college and get my life straight and stop hanging out with the people I did. They managed to get me back on track a couple of times and I’ve held down a good couple of jobs too, but it was never for very long.”

“I always somehow find a way to mess everything up again and it just got worse and worse every time I fell back off the wagon. Bobby stopped giving me money, so I started stealing it instead and when he found out I was doing that, the both of them locked up their shit pretty tightly. It wasn’t until about two months ago that Bobby had decided it was enough and he kicked me out. He offered me rehab first but when I refused, that’s when he kicked me out.”

Dean has gone quiet and he’s wringing his fingers together in his lap as they shake. He doesn’t like to speak about this. About how he’s disappointed so many people and how he’s messed up so badly that his own family thought it was best to kick him out on the street.

“What did you do?” Castiel asks suddenly.

Dean looks up from his hands and gives Castiel a dazed look. “What?”

“What was it you did that had Bobby decide to kick you out? What was the final straw?”

Deans eyes are starting to sting. He doesn’t want to talk about this, but he still feels like he owes Castiel more. He tries to take even breaths and just hopes that he can be strong enough right now and not start crying like an idiot.

“I- I sold my mothers’ jewellery. All of it.” Dean can feel his lip starting to tremble as he talks about one of the things he’s been most disgusted with himself about. “I had been coming down for about two days and I was desperate. I didn’t have any money and like I said, Bobby had cut me off. I remembered that I had some of my moms’ old stuff in a box in the closet and I-.”

Dean stops talking and tries to shake the memory from his head. It was something he had done when he had started to go into withdrawal and it had felt like he was losing his mind at the time. He’s heard stories about drug addicts being so desperate that they start selling off their stuff, not really caring whether it held sentimental value or not.

He had always thought that no matter how bad things got or how high or desperate he was, he would never have done anything like that. He had overestimated his ability to be a decent human being though. He would never forget the look on Sammy’s face when he had figured out what he had done.

“I had a fight with Sammy when he figured it out. I said some… messed up shit and Bobby had overheard and decided that he was done with me.” Dean continued when he felt he had the nerve to say something again.

“Messed up shit” is an understatement. Sammy had been crying and begging Dean to go and get the jewellery back and Dean had just smirked and told Sam how it wasn’t like their mom was going to be coming back for it anytime soon. He’s never seen Sam so broken before, he looked completely defeated and the worst was the look in his eyes when Dean had said that, like he didn’t even know who Dean was anymore, like he had been betrayed.

“They still love you Dean. Regardless of what you did, they’re just not sure what else to do.” Castiel says softly, placing his hand over Deans like he’s trying to ground him.

Dean looks back up at Castiel, his eyes still stinging from unshed tears. “You speaking from experience there Cas?”

Castiel pulls his eyes away from Deans and stares at the blank TV screen. Dean starts to think he may have pushed a button and he’s just about to apologise when Castiel speaks again.

“My sister Anna.” He says slowly, his hand getting a little tighter over Deans. “She overdosed about two years ago.”

Deans’ stomach drops as the words sink in and he stares at Castiels pained expression. “I-I’m sorry Cas.”

Castiel nods slowly and looks back at dean with a sad smile on his face. “You remind me of her.”

“Really?” Dean asks with raised eyebrows.

“Yes. She was also stubborn and temperamental.”

Dean lets out a loud bark of laughter at Castiels forwardness. “Well gee, thanks.” He continues, still chuckling, but then stops when he realises something. “Is that why you’re trying to help me out?”

Castiel pulls his lips in a straight line and looks as if he’s trying to consider it. “Perhaps.”

“So me being incredibly good looking had nothing to do with it?”

“I do admit that may have been a deciding factor.” Castiel says chuckling softly.

Deans just about to comment on that when his head starts to spin. He throws a shaky hand up to his head to try to steady himself, but even that slight movement causes him to feel ill. He knows what this is. This is how it starts when he goes into withdrawal. He’s experienced it enough times to know that it’s just going to get worse if he doesn’t get something soon.

Castiel has moved to kneel in front of Dean now, his hands still on Deans. “Dean. I can help you through this. I can. But I can only do that if it’s what you really want. If it’s not, well then you can leave right now and I promise I won’t ever bother you again.”

The thought of being kicked on the street again makes Dean whimper pathetically, he’s embarrassed by the noise but he can’t help it. He doesn’t want to be like this. He doesn’t want to end up like that girl at the warehouse.

“I know you don’t.” Castiel replies softly, squeezing Deans hands.

Shit. Had he said that out loud?

“Dean. You must never go to places like that. People stay there for days and the only things around them are drugs and other addicts. It’s so easy for you to fall apart in a place like that.”

Castiel leans further forward so that he can make sure he’s the only thing in Deans’ line of sight. “Dean, people _die_ there. I’m sorry I butted in where it wasn’t any of my business to do so, but I couldn’t stand the thought of you maybe going to that horrible place and dying there, when there was something I could have done to stop it.”

Castiel looks panicked, like he’s expecting Dean to laugh in his face and get up and walk away. His grip on Deans hands has gotten harder but it doesn’t slow the shaking. Deans stomach twists in on itself and his breathing quickens.

“Fine.” Dean manages to get out through his ragged breathing. He’s going to be sick, he can feel it coming.

Castiels eyes widen and his eyebrows raise. “Fine? As in: I can help you through this fine?”

Dean pulls his hands from Castiels and leans his head down in between his knees. He hates this; the withdrawal. Having to ask someone to help him. Feeling like if he doesn’t, he’s going to end up in another warehouse somewhere, dead.

“ _Yes._ ” He groans out as he jumps to his feet and clutches his hand in front of his mouth, in an attempt to not get sick all over Cas’ carpet.

He heads straight to the bathroom and empties the contents of his stomach into the toilet. It doesn’t stop and the shaking and nausea has come back full force. He tries to catch his breath as his body tries to push out all the crap he’s been filling himself up with for the past few months.

He doesn’t even hear Castiel come up next to him until something cool is being placed on the back of his neck. He slowly moves his head up to see Castiel holding a wet cloth to the back of his neck and slowly moving it to his cheek and then up to his forehead. It feels amazing and he gives Castiel a weak smile to show his appreciation.

“You’re stronger than this Dean. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :D.


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